


Obi-Wan

by Joysweeper



Series: Crucibles [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemon, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joysweeper/pseuds/Joysweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short stories set in a version of the Galaxy Far, Far Away in which the Force is entangled with Dust, and humans and some near-humans have dæmons, animal-shaped manifestations of their consciousness or souls.</p>
<p>Old Ben Kenobi is an odd, friendly enigma that Luke and Peregrine have known all their life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His head was still throbbing. Peregrine crept up to lay some of her substance against the back of his neck and withdrew from his back, staying ahead of Ben’s hand as the hermit helped Luke sit up and gave him water.

It had the slightly rusty-metallic taste that meant its vaporator had one of those cheap KJ4-model condensers, which went out of true just a couple years after installation. Still potable, but that taste made it harder to sell.

Luke hated, really hated, that he’d ended up picking up the moisture farmer’s habit of being able to tell things like that. His family had been so pleased when they found out... Peregrine formed a tendril and nudged him with it, reminding him what he’d been saying before his dry throat made him cough. She might have spoken instead - they _knew_ Ben - but the blow to Luke’s head had her a little out of sorts, too.

He lowered the canteen and capped it a little clumsily. “Artoo-Deetoo here claims he’s the property of an Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The droid beeped cheerfully. It sounded like an affirmative.

“Is that a... relative of yours?” Peregrine ventured.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Ben repeated slowly, stroking his beard. Out beyond him, closer to Artoo, his large bird dæmon raised her head. “Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“Well, I think my uncle knew ‘im. Uncle Owen said Obi-Wan was dead.”

“Oh, he’s not dead!” An oddly boyish light had come to the eyes of man and dæmon both. “At least not yet.”

“You know him?”

Abruptly Ben grinned. “Well of course I know him!”

“He’s me!” For a baffling moment, Luke thought Ben had spoken without moving his mouth, but as Peregrine sputtered “Wha-” the hermit exchanged a glance with his dæmon, and it became clear.

Ben’s dæmon was actually male. He didn’t sound _exactly_ like Ben, but their voices were so close, Luke wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell without looking. Maybe he’d heard the dæmon speak before but hadn’t seen, and he’d assumed he was hearing Ben talking.

Instead, Ben was a matcher.

Luke knew the term, and that some near-human species had more of them than humans did. They were very, very rare among humans, though the text that had mentioned them had also said that they’d been a little more common during the Old Republic era.

“I haven’t gone by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi for years.” Ben said it. _Ben_ , not his dæmon. Peregrine couldn’t watch one while Luke looked at the other, so Luke looked back and forth, gradually registering their shared amusement.

He also glanced back at Artoo, who seemed completely unperturbed, as far as it was possible to tell. Well he probably would be, if he belonged to the man.

“Wait. Okay, you.” Peregrine formed a dull point with which to indicate Ben’s dæmon. “You have a collective name or something, right? So what’s yours?”

“I told you,” the other dæmon said mildly. Ben finished. “I am Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He took pity on them. ”We both are. It _is_ a collective name, but it doesn’t apply to two such distinct individuals that I really need more names.”

The way he said it was so warm and sure and completely unquestioning. They didn’t have a knowing about it, but Peregrine was instantly sure that what they’d always suspected was true: Ben was not from Tatooine.

“Then this little droid _does_ belong to you,” Luke said slowly, still trying to wrap his mind around it. Artoo made a friendly-sounding series of beeps.

Ben’s dæmon stepped over and spread a wing over the droid’s dome. The feathers on the underside of his wing were startlingly pale, almost white. “I don’t seem to remember ever owning a droid.” He looked at Luke, and folded the wing again. “Now, I think we’d better get indoors. The Sand People are easily startled, but they’ll soon be back and in greater numbers.”


	2. Chapter 2

While Han and Brekken and Chewbacca went and fixed some damage the ship had taken blasting out of Mos Eisley, Obi-Wan took Luke and Peregrine through a series of lightsaber drills. One stance always moved into the next, and the set ended back at the start. The feel of the hilt, of the weapon’s presence in his hands, was still incredible. Like it was alive. They could imagine his father holding it, and in the mind’s eye he looked like Luke but taller, strong and confident and with their dam on his shoulder as a proud, fierce predatory bird.

However right it felt, it was a lot harder to perform the drills than Luke would have expected. Obi-Wan had to urge him to stop and rest. Luke and Peregrine had a lot of questions then, and found that even though Ben was a lot more open about things than he’d ever been before, there were still things he didn’t want to talk about.

Particularly Darth Vader. It was so obvious that it wasn’t a good subject, but Luke was sure he would have to face the Emperor’s lackey one day, and tell him who he was, and...

“ _Luke._ ” Ben said it like it pained him. His eyes had hardened, and his dæmon was looking away. “Luke, you’re reaching far ahead of yourself. The workings of the Force aren’t always so direct.”

Peregrine shrank back against his skin. Luke swallowed. Why was it that a mild reprimand from Ben worried him more than hearing Uncle Owen shout?

Only, that would never happen again, now, now that Auret was gone and Uncle Owen...

_No. No, don’t think about that,_ Peregrine told him silently. Luke found his voice and spoke quietly. “...well. Sorry. I don’t mean to sound like I’m impatient, Ben. I’m grateful that you care enough to watch over me, and teach me. I really am.” He was everything Luke had, now.

Ben paused, and looked at him with what was probably as close to an apology as he was going to get. “I haven’t had a pupil since before the Dark Times. And there have been many times when I thought I would never teach another, and I feared the way of the Jedi would die out.”

“You mean... there are no other Jedi?” The Empire always said they were extinct now, but if Ben made it, surely others might.

The old man tipped his head to the side, but it was his dæmon, turning again to face them, who spoke. For all that they’d said they were united, it was still so strange to hear them like this. “We are not... _altogether_ alone in the galaxy, you and I. But I doubt that we can count on help from others of our kind.”

“Our kind,” Peregrine breathed. It was such a strange, precious phrase. Even if it was a tiny kind. Even if it was looking like Luke wouldn’t make a very good Jedi.

Ben got to his feet. It seemed like he’d come to some kind of decision. “Back in the days of the old Republic, a Jedi initiate would begin by spending a great deal of time in contemplation and study, learning to open to the Force. But this is a different day, with its own urgencies.” He inhaled, squaring his shoulders under his dusty robe. “Now Luke, Peregrine. I have a feeling we may need our every resource when we get to Alderaan. I have it in mind to accelerate your training by opening you to the Force.”

“How?”

Ben’s dæmon flutter-hopped to the top of a shipping container. Hadn’t he been bigger before? Atop that container he should have towered over Luke, but they were on the same level. “By building your trust in it, and in yourself. A great part of a Jedi’s power is derived from the Force by a firm conviction. A trust.”

“Well, I’ll try whatever you want me to. What do I do?”

“Simply stretch out your hand, and believe.”

Luke blinked, but Peregrine recoiled. “Wait, what?”

His wings opened a little and refolded along his back. “Your hand, Luke. I need to touch it.”

Peregrine sputtered. “Wh- are you crazy?”

“It has been suggested before,” he said with a boyish glint. “But if I am mad it is an old, old ailment. You will not be harmed, and you need not worry about harming me.”

“I can’t touch you!” Luke all but yelped.

He half turned and looked pleadingly at Ben, who smiled. “If you believe I am going to take your side, I fear you will be disappointed, my friend. I _told_ you that Jedi regard our dæmons a little differently.”

“And you won’t be touching me, regardless. _I_ will make contact with _you._ ”

“That’s just playing with words! There’s no difference!” Peregrine protested.

“I believe you mean to say semantics, but no. It makes a very great difference.” His voice was kind, but firm.

The thought of just flatly refusing and finding some other part of the Falcon to wait out the ride in was very tempting right then, and dash it all if Captain Solo didn’t like him wandering around. Or of protesting loudly enough that he and Brekken or the Wookiee copilot, Chewbacca, came to investigate. Dæmonless though Chewie was - earlier Ben had said that the Wookiee code of honor was insubstantial but every bit as real as Peregrine - he’d probably still be rightly horrified.

But they weren’t going to reach Alderaan for days, even if the Millenium Falcon was as fast as Han said she was. And if Luke refused, they were only going to have other things to do or think about for so long. It was only going to be so long before Peregrine couldn’t hold it off anymore, and they had to think in horrible detail about what they had found when they came home for the last time, and-

Anything would be better than that. Anything.

At last, Luke swallowed and held his hand out to the other dæmon, wincing. Most of Peregrine’s weight was on his back, but tendrils were wrapped around his shoulders, and now she sent a thin one to wind along his arm, so that the tip was in his palm. “Both or neither,” she said, with barely a tremble.

Obi-Wan inclined his elegant head. “Very well.” With great decorum he took one step closer and extended his neck, and brushed the tip of his beak across Luke’s skin and Peregrine’s substance.

A strange sensation flashed like lightning up Luke’s arm, then to his spine. He shuddered involuntarily, and Peregrine went liquid for a moment, but... it wasn’t as bad as either of them expected.

Actually, it really wasn’t bad at all. Bizarre, yes. For a moment, it almost burned, but it wasn’t burning. The sensation was sort of... agreeably tingly.

The dæmon’s voice was as much felt as heard. “I’m going to help you. I’ll be your guide, and your intermediary. Now, I’m going to be right _here_.” He pulled his beak away from Luke’s hand, and stepped one skinny leg, then the other up to Luke’s shoulder, where he perched, one foot on Peregrine. The feeling soaked right through Luke’s tunic. “I want you to listen to my voice, and empty your mind of everything else.”

“You’re smaller now,” Peregrine mumbled. Feathers just brushed Luke’s cheek. He was hyper-aware of every point of contact. The tingle seemed to keep rippling out, making him shiver again and again. At the same time, he felt curiously distant, drifting. “I _know_ you’re smaller.”

“Yes, Peregrine. Now. I want you to listen to my voice, and empty your mind of everything else. Focus on my voice. For now, you are safe. There is nothing to fear. Remember that you know me.”

“Yeah,” Luke mumbled. His eyes drifted shut. Was this what those stormtroopers had felt when Ben had affected their minds? “You’ve always been - around.”

“Concentrate on the open area of the deck where you will try the velocities once more. Envision yourself going through the drill. Don’t move. But feel the _shape_ of the sequence. How your arms and legs will move, how nerves and muscles will cooperate. Try to make the sensations as real as you can. The wide, rotary motions of the lightsaber. The placement of your feet and where your center of balance will be. Now. Take your father’s lightsaber in your hand, and activate your blade.”

He obeyed, moving as if in a dream. It felt right. It still felt right. During the drills, Obi-Wan had told him that one of the ways a Jedi contacted the force was through synchronizing body, and dæmon, and lightsaber, all as one. He hadn't felt it then.

“Good. Now open yourself and create the flow of those movements in your mind. Let the pattern carry your mind along. Don’t worry about speed, or indecision, don’t worry about _anything_. Feel my presence. Feel how Luke and Peregrine converge. Feel the life of the lightsaber in your hands, and anticipate how it all flows together. And when you feel that you are ready... Begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I leaned on the audio drama adaptation of A New Hope for this. It's pretty worth listening to.


	3. Chapter 3

Luke had seen stormtroopers before, sure, even before taking Ben and the droids through Mos Eisley. He knew what the phylacteries on the upper back plates of their armor were. It had disturbed him at first, but he’d _thought_ he was used to it by now. Two years, and an impending rest-of-their-life, with a functionally deaf and blind daemon had sort of made the idea easier to stand.

But it was so unsettling being surrounded by people he knew were human, and yet only seeing recognizable dæmons near the rare officers or other non-armored individuals. He kept feeling relieved whenever Peregrine, wrapped around him under the stolen armor, silently reminded him that she was still there and they hadn’t stumbled into some kind of dæmonless pocket dimension, or something.

Han seemed pretty at ease, as far as Luke could tell from watching his posture through his helmet’s eyepieces. Han couldn’t touch Brekken, lying as still as she could in the bag slung onto Chewie’s back, to reassure himself, but that wasn’t stopping him. Maybe he’d been a stormtrooper once himself? It wasn’t like either of them had wanted to tell their life story.

Ben’s dæmon kept low, clinging to a detail of the armor on Luke’s calf. The armor kept him at a remove that had earned them a weird look from Han rather than outrage. Still, Luke could have sworn he felt his tiny claws right through the plastoid, and he hoped desperately that no one would notice the little black-and-white bird riding on a stormtrooper’s leg. Even with Ben and his dæmon apparently being one and probably both able to use the Jedi Force, Luke suspected there were too many people here to just... trick.

It was weird how he could change his body, even if he'd insisted he was settled and it wasn't like shifting. Weirder having him there with Ben himself maybe kilometers away by now. But not a bad weird.

 _Stay focused,_ Peregrine said, as silently as if _he_ were a stormtrooper. Luke squared his shoulders under the heavy plastoid armor and tried to walk like everyone else. After all, they had a princess to save.


End file.
